Rorek of Nol
by Broken Prophet
Summary: Rorek must confront his past,reconcile his mistakes, and end his long standing rivalry with the dragon Malcior. Shift between pastpresent. Will include Raven. Please Review. Thanks!


Teen Titans:

_Rorek of Nol_

Reawakening

Nothing. Absolute and total darkness. No sense, no emotion, no thought. Emptiness. Floating, falling in an endless, mindless, abyss. Then pain. A deep, searing pain fills all of his senses; accompanied only by a chorus of distant, incomprehensible screams. Slowly the hellish choir becomes louder and louder as it draws near, rivaling the pain's intensity. Then a revelation strikes him. They're his screams.

He awakens instantly to the sound of his turmoil being echoed in his voice making him hoarse. The pain soon eases returning enough of his wits to see his predicament. He looks at himself, carefully examining all his wounds, lingering on the two most grievous--a large stone crushing his right leg, and a rusty sword just missing his heart.

He started coughing violently as the pain returned leaving him gasping for breath. He notices a coppery taste in the back of his mouth as his breathing becomes more difficult. _If I__'__m not going to die of my wounds I__'__ll drown in my blood._ _Nice choices._ Strangely his own haggard voice urges him to survive. _"__No,__"_he vows, _"__you must live.__"_ Ignoring his body's vehement protest he reaches for the blade first, his warm blood seeping from the injury. Placing his hands on opposite sides of the flat of the blade, close to the pierced silver of his armor, he breaks the corroded weapon. With a clang the blade strikes the stones. He raises himself on his side. The movement immediately shatters the now weakened sword a second time, lodging a piece of it in his shoulder. Pulling down his face mask he hacks crimson all over the ground, sending tremors through his aching body.

His coughing subsides and he looks at the large stone still covering his leg. Without thought he stretches his left hand toward the rock and whispers a nearly inaudible spell. He feels tingling from the slightest hint of power in his fingertips as the bolder slowly hovers an inch above his pulverized leg. He pulls his leg out. The sharp pain causes him to grip his leg and loose his focus. The boulder drops with a loud crack against the cobblestones almost landing on his other leg. After a moment's rest he grabs a long piece of a nearby splintered beam, and pulls himself up using it as a crutch.

He takes a moment to survey the devastation around him. It is total and absolute; not one stone stands upon another. Small fires burn everywhere with a disturbingly eerie green glow. The ash and dust are so thick in the sky that the noonday sun bathes this recent battlefield in an ethereal, apocalyptic light. The smell of sulfur, smoke, and death overwhelm the entire area. He feels as if he is in hell, and the burning of his wounds is no comfort.

In spite of, or because of, the constant agony, he starts moving, stumbling, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. His mind flashes through various fleeting memories--countless, soundless images. Shreds of thought flood his broken mind, trying to find anything familiar to guide him through. Slowly the burning in his body saps him of his strength. His mind begins to succumb to the fog that surrounds him. He barely feels himself strike the earth, or hears the breath hiss from his mouth. He knows only that he has given up, surrendering to the sweet certainty of death.

Then he sees it--a book. A white book with black markings lays partially open in the rubble. A strangely familiar malice exudes from the equally familiar book, though he can not place either. But suddenly he finds himself needing to get the book, get up, and get out of there. Without knowing why or what drives him, he reaches for the nameless tome and prepares himself to escape.

He rises very slowly trying to keep his balance, and continues to the end of the boundless ruins. He can't stop; possessed by the mysterious impulse to survive instilled in him by his discovery. It is his only thought, his only action, his only breath.

He finally finds the realm's end. As he emerges he is greeted by a brilliantly colored setting sun and a breathtakingly clear sky. The cool breeze and clean air are wondrous and seem so free. He enjoys this final, perfect moment before he falls into nothing.


End file.
